


Growing Pains

by Monisse



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monisse/pseuds/Monisse
Summary: Brianna and Roger meet for the first time as children and find comfort together among chaos.
Relationships: Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie & Roger MacKenzie Wakefield, Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie/Roger MacKenzie Wakefield
Kudos: 18





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Just a simple AU one-shot after many months without writing, to celebrate my birthday and Brianna’s birthday as well.

Boston, 1955

Brianna stared at the paper, white and untouched still, and considered the pencils spread neatly on the coffee table. She had plenty to choose from, for they nearly covered the whole spectrum by now. Still, she kept asking her dad for more, because she could never quite capture the right shades on her mind. Ever since she could remember, her imagination was constantly bursting with bold splashes of color, blending together in intense images that begged to become a reality by her already skillful hand. Any piece of paper, however small, was under permanent threat from sudden inspiration. Drawings, not yet fully polished, were stuck to the fridge, found their way to her mama’s purse, and overflowed the margins of her daddy’s most recent articles. Yet, the paper in front of her remained as empty as her mind at that moment.

Across from her, Roger sat on the floor as well, looking closely at an open book on the table. She smiled to herself, finding it funny that while she often sought to empty the visual storm inside her mind onto the nearest paper, he did the opposite and filled it with knowledge. He was never too far away from a book.

He arrived on a hot summer day, trailing behind a very tall man which her dad had welcomed into the house with laughter and open arms. He was only a few years older than her, but Brianna was immediately wary of him, knowing fairly well how boys usually behaved. They tended to be mean and capable of doing the most horrible things, and she was yet to meet one that she liked. But, to her surprise, Roger was friendly, kind even, and always seemed to have an easy smile on his lips. It made the initial distrust fade away fairly quickly. 

Besides the smile, the eyes were his most striking feature. They were the most beautiful shade of green she had ever seen, framed by long, dark lashes. From the moment he walked through the front door, Brianna thought she ought to have a pencil of that color, and made a mental note to ask her dad to find one later.

His eyes were hidden now, lost in the stream of words under them, and she could only see the thick amount of black hair on the top of his head. Roger hadn’t spoken a word since they sat down a couple of hours ago, but that was just fine with her, for she enjoyed talking to him just as much as spending time together in complete silence. 

He was now leaning forward so deeply, that his nose nearly touched the page. For a brief moment, she feared he might fall inside the book and be lost in the story forever.

Brianna finally chose the cobalt blue pencil and tapped the top of his head with it, once, twice, and a third time, until he groaned and swatted her hand away.

“Stop it, Bree.” he said trying to reach for the pencil to prevent another painful assault on his head.

“You’ll hurt your eyes reading so close to the pages.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will. Mama says so.” she replied in a matter-of-fact manner, slightly offended that he dared to doubt her.

“My eyes are just f–” he seemed ready to start one of his long arguments against nonsense, but was interrupted by raised voices coming from upstairs.

Not enough? What else do you want from me, Frank?

I don’t know, but is it too much to ask you to spend a little more time with your family?

There was no novelty in her parent’s shouting matches, and they only seemed vary in volume and content. They were not frequent, though Brianna had rapidly developed strategies to ignore the aggressive exchange of words whenever they came. One was to find the farthest room and close herself in until it was safe to leave, and another, only reserved for the truly loud ones, involved a pillow over her head. Regardless of intensity, it never failed to make her feel upset, but she was slowly growing accustomed to that feeling. 

A fight would start as a conversation in hushed tones, seldom in front of her, and it would quickly escalate into shouting until one gave up and left. The other would find her, wherever she was hiding, and show a sort of broken smile, reassuring her that everything was alright.

With a lack of pillows to muffle the sound, and not wanting to leave Roger alone, Brianna gave her full attention to the drawing taking shape in her mind. She used the pencil already in hand to draw a deep ocean, bottomless if not for the edge of the paper, soothing and capable of dampening any sound if she could dive in.

Her eyes shifted briefly towards Roger, and she noticed he had not gone back to the book. Instead, he was looking up towards the source of the sound, listening intently. There was a wrinkle between his eyes, distorting the dark eyebrows. He looked somewhat surprised, as if he was not familiar with such scene. Perhaps his own household was more peaceful, she thought. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll stop eventually.” Brianna offered as a sort of apology for her parent’s behavior.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Yes, but I think all moms and dads do it.” or at least that was what she thought every time it happened. Even without much means of comparison, Brianna knew that there was love between them. They laughed freely together, there were kisses and embraces, although their conversations were spaced by her mama’s long silences, as if she was not completely there with them. However, in these moments, she found herself questioning if love always came with the pain she sometimes saw on their faces.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Why? Your parents don’t fight?”

“My parents died a long time ago.” he said briefly, a slight tension in his voice.

Brianna looked at him in shock. Her parents had failed to mention that particular information, though she sensed from the way he was not meeting her eyes, that it was not something easily explained.

“I’m sorry, I thought Mr. Wakefield was your father.”

“I call him father, but he’s actually my mother’s uncle. He took me in after they passed away.”

Never before had it crossed her mind that parents were able to suddenly die. Brianna felt immediately bad for Roger, until her heart started pounding in her chest and a thin layer of sweat covered her hands, making her hold the slipping pencil tighter. Her mind was suddenly assaulted by the thought of her own parents dying, leaving her all alone. She had no other family beyond them, her entire world began and ended with her parents. What would happen to her? Who would take her in? 

He seemed sense her sudden distress, and his hand covered hers, effectively capturing her attention. “It’s alright, Bree, really.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Sometimes, yes. To be honest, I don’t remember them well, but my father says I have my dad’s eyes, so I get some comfort from that.”

“I don’t have Daddy’s eyes, or Mama’s, and my hair…” the words came pouring out of her mouth until she stopped abruptly and realized many other doubts were still inside her. If they were gone would she ever see them in herself, like Roger did?

“That doesn’t matter, Bree. They are not going anywhere and seem to love each other and you very much.”

She sighed deeply, shifting her attention back to the paper. His words helped calm her fears a little, but her mind buzzed with questions to which she had no answer, questions swarming around her mind like a thousand bees.

“I know that. I’m just not sure they love each other right now.” she murmured with a small gesture upwards with her head, while unconsciously moving the tip of the pencil back and forth over the smooth surface of the paper.

As the shouts upstairs grew louder, the drawing became deeper in color. Brianna pressed the pencil against the paper with such force that the tip suddenly broke, shot up in the air in a perfect parable and landed on the page of his book, spreading a small amount of blue dust.

Roger brushed it aside casually, closed the book and stood up with one hand stretched towards her. “Come on.”

She wanted to question where, but her small hand slipped into his before she could. He pulled her effortlessly from the floor and she followed him to the front door and into the bright day outside.

A fresh breeze played lightly with her hair, no cars or people went by, and she appreciated the immediate silence.

Roger sat on the front steps of the house and urged her to do the same. A gentle smile ever-present. He opened the book again and started reading aloud. Something about Scottish settlers in America. His accent was still odd to her ears, occasionally hard to follow, but not at all unpleasant. It had a soothing musicality, strangely familiar though she had never met a Scottish person before, and it begged her constant attention.

The book itself was boring, but she welcomed the distraction it provided and leaned against him to follow the words.

They had gone through nearly two whole pages when a door shutting startled them, the loud sound coming from the window above.

“When I grow up, I won’t fight with my wife.” he murmured without taking his eyes off the page.

She nodded and snuggled a little closer to his side, her head not quite reaching his shoulder. “I hope not.”


End file.
